


Bits and Ideas That Might Never Go Anywhere

by Crimson_Square



Category: Girl Genius, Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Different Beginnings, differing fandoms, fandom in the chapter title, might or might not go anywhere, no crossovers so far, random ideas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:46:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Square/pseuds/Crimson_Square
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically?<br/>Something for bits and ideas that pop into my head that would not be one-shots, but longer stories... and that might or might not ever actually go anywhere, depending on how much time I have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Know She's a Spark (Girl Genius)

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much the premise "Agatha knows she's a Spark before the story starts, Butterflies happen".

Sometimes, a butterfly flaps its wings, and leads to a tornado on the other side of the world.  
  
At other times, two people look at their adopted daughter, now eight years old, after a truly, utterly horrible day instead of the just mildly bad one she normally would have had.  
  
It started with a classmate's prank, or maybe, you could argue, it started with little Agatha Clay becoming _angry_ just before the classmate's "prank", and walking right into it when she normally wouldn't have, ending up muddy, slightly bruised, and with a ripped dress, coming home in tears.  
  
Running up to her mother, hugging her, Agatha became - not unreasonably - rather… angry. Annoyed.  
  
And experienced yet another headache when she started ranting.  
  
But instead of stopping when the headache started, like she'd normally done, she just worked herself into even more of a state.  
  
  
  
Lilith - Judy, it didn't quite matter anymore - was staring at her daughter.  
  
Her child. Bill's child, Barry's niece. (Lucrezia's, too, but that shouldn't matter, no matter how much she looked like her.)  
  
She was alternatively clutching at her head, hiccuping, sobbing, and starting with full-blown Spark rants that were always interrupted by the delibating pain that only seemed to serve to make her more angry.  
  
Judy didn't know what to do. Rocking, holding or hugging Agatha didn't help, she just kicked back with surprising strength, talking didn't help, nothing helped.  
  
Maybe she wouldn't have done this on any other day - but on this one, tired and sore and home-sick, on the anniversary of Bill's death, Judy gave up.  
  
She took off Agatha's locket.  
  
  
  
It took the girl maybe half an hour, a lot of ranting, and a few improvements to Adam's forge to calm down and even notice she didn't have the locket anymore.  
  
And that was the moment the questions started.  
  
  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Agatha's eyes were wide, innocent, and full of _Sparky_ curiousity.  
  
Lilith swallowed. They were sitting on the bench in the kitchen, a small, comfortable room, always well-heated. Adam had made that bench and chest in one, upholstery and all.  
  
"Female Sparks… they've been disappearing, all over Europa. Agatha, you're a _young_ Spark. And a girl."  
  
It wasn't quite the truth, not the whole truth, but it was close enough. "Even if you were just a Spark at your age, we don't have a reliable, powerful backer. It always would have been safer to hide it."  
  
"I don't need to be safe." Agatha's face was crunched up, her arms crossed. "I want to build. I want to _think_."  
  
Lilith could hear the blood - well, her equivalent, anyways - rushing in her ears. How could she… what could she do?  
  
"Sweetheart… we do need to keep you safe." Agatha tried blinking away tears from her eyes, and Lilith held up her daughter's chin, caressing her cheek. "But you don't need to hide at home, all the time."  
  
Agatha grinned at her, bright-eyed and gap-toothed, and Lilith's heart melted. Well, not literally.  
  
  
  
Over the next few years, they fell into a routine: Agatha - as promised - never took off her locket in public, only at times, at home, when the pressure became too much, her Spark slowly starting to shine through in small, almost imperceptible ways.  
  
Those years passed, and not much changed.  
  
A hive engine was found and kept hidden, a locket was stolen, a Professor threw a bomb and died for it, and Agatha, desperate to find her locket, built a clank in her sleep and was subsequently taken to Castle Wulfenbach, together with Moloch von Zinzer.  
  
And that was when things finally diverged.  
  
  
  
Agatha yawned, rubbing her eyes.  
  
Warm… soft… wait, her blankets didn't feel like that…  
  
"Huh… everything looks so strange…" She blinked her eyes open, her - very hazy - surroundings utterly unfamiliar. Those weren't the colours of her room… for one, everything was much, much too purple.  
  
A hand clasped over her mouth, and that- that thief was standing bent over her.  
  
"Hmf!", she protested, her heart racing. What was going on?  
  
"Mfff!"  
  
"Quiet! _Quiet!!_ I'm _Not_ gonna hurt you unless I _gotta_ \- but I _will_ if you act _stupid_."  
  
That was the moment Agatha stopped being afraid and started being _angry_. She would show him _stupid_ \- she was a Spark, she was not, she would show them, _show them **all!**_  
  
"Now I'm gonna take my hand away - I'm giving you _one_ chance. _Don't blow it._ "  
  
She marginally relaxed, preparing herself -  
  
"… All right. Good. Now listen. We're prisoners on Castle Wulfenbach."  
  
Castle Wulfenbach? Adam and Lilith… they hadn't ever said they suspected the Baron to be responsible for the kidnappings of female Sparks, but Agatha knew they had.  
  
This wasn't… what was she going to do? Well, there really was only one thing, wasn't there?  
  
But that already was enough information for that purpose.  
  
Drawing back her fist, she calculated the exact amount of force that would be needed…  
  
**_SMACK._**  
  
One unconscious thief, thank you very much.  
  
No going back now - she was to somehow figure out how to escape from here.  
  
… maybe she should've waited to knock him unconscious until he'd given her more information?  
  
No matter. Too late now, anyways.  
  
Now, what could she do with the contents of her room that'd help?


	2. The Vonnegut Children (Worm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob, James and Riley Vonnegut, adopted siblings, are given into the custody of Taylor Hebert after the death of their guardian, Mr. King.

Jacob tried not to focus on anything but keeping calm, but it was hard - very, very hard. His eyes were on the window, a desolate seeming city under a cloudy sky showing from the room they were in - he was kind of glad they were on a higher floor, at least there was something to look at outside, so he didn't have to focus on the room, the bare office that it was.  
  
Mrs Rosenkrantz usual office was apparently being renovated right now, he had the feeling that place would be full of knick-knacks and small memories, and a great deal better for distracting onself in.  
  
They were going to have to start new, again. The last time he'd done so had been barely half a year ago, he and his two siblings being put under Mr. King's guardianship, all four of their memories lost, and nothing to prove their previous existence but some documents.  
  
And now Mr. King was dead, and he wasn't sure whether he was relieved or scared - probably both.  
  
Slowly, Mrs Rosenkrantz' voice drifted into focus. "-ob? Jacob? Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, Mrs Rosenkrantz", he answered their social worker, on autopilot.  
  
James, listening attentively as ever, or at least pretending to, elbowed him, with just enough force to jolt him out of his stupor. The other boy's blond hair was combed as impeccably as ever, his shoes were squeaky clean, and so was everything else about him, Jacob had never understood his brother's tics, but them still being present meant everything was alright.  
  
Right. There were more important things to do than feel anxious, even if all he could do right now was hope that their next guardian was a decent sort.  
  
Like making sure Riley and James were alright, and to see whether they could glean any useful information out of their social worker before actually meeting their new guardian.  
  
Had he actually caught their name?  
  
"Mrs Rosenkrantz?", he asked.  
  
"Yes, Jack?"  
  
"Jacob. Not Jack. Jacob", he corrected her. He really didn't like being called 'Jack', Mr King had done so all the time.  
  
"Jacob, I mean - sorry, it's just…" Mrs Rosenkrantz fell silent, looking at her files.  
  
"Mr King put down I preferred being called Jack?", Jacob asked.  
  
She blushed, and Jacob already knew what she was thinking - that the nickname was too raw, so soon after his guardian's death. In truth, he was actually relieved he wasn't their guardian any more, no matter how that had happened, how he'd contracted an exotic illness that didn't usually occur in the US. He didn't care, and didn't want to know.  
  
"Ah, Jacob, then. What did you want to ask?"  
  
"Do you know anything about our new guardian?"  
  
Mrs Rosenkrantz smiled. "I do, actually. Taylor Hebert - well, she's an old friend. We went to high school together."  
  
"Oh?", Jacob asked.  
  
Mrs Rosenkrantz shrugged. "It wasn't the best of times, but we - ah, found each other during junior year. Made some other friends, too. She's one of the best people I know."  
  
So Mrs Rosenkrantz was biased as could be, useful to know before evaluating any information. On the other hand, from what he'd seen from Mrs Rosenkrantz, there was a good chance any of her friends might actually be decent, it would be a nice change.  
  
"Taylor is, well - I guess a good example would be the time she got into a fight with the school's track star after she broke our not-yet friend Greg's leg; didn't ever defend herself before that, but somebody else got into trouble and she didn't walk away. I, well, I patched the two of them up, afterwards, all three of us got suspended for two weeks for starting fights. Winslow was a bit biased towards the better kids."  
  
There was a genuine bitterness in those words, one that didn't quite surprise Jack. But it was… nice to know their new guardian seemed to defend others, even if she'd learned the lesson that wasn't something you always should or could do, this might extend to them.  
  
He was calming down by the second, even with the ticking of the clock signalling the time of arrival for their new guardian coming closer and closer.  
  
"Any more recent stories?", he asked.  
  
"Well, she and my husband work together, so I have some stories there, you wouldn't believe what they observed, sometimes… I think just last week, somebody tried to 'initiate' a rookie through some made up traditions, and Taylor laid into him. Didn't ever make a peep again. She's good at that."  
  
Last week, sounded much better - didn't really tell anything absolute about how she might act at home, people acted differently in different places, but a strong sense of not liking people kicking the dog sounded great. If that translated to their home life, it would be awesome.  
  
"I just wanted to ask", Mrs Rosenkrantz interrupted his thoughts, "whether the three of you - well, do you prefer being called James Harris, Jacob Bowie, and Riley Bones, or James, Jacob and Riley Vonnegut?"  
  
He looked at his siblings, both miming small shrugs. "I don't think any of us really care all that much. Vonnegut would probably be easier. Mark us as siblings." That was his opinion on the topic, at least.  
  
"Alright. I'll make sure your records continue reflecting that." Mrs Rosenkrantz gave him a grin, and then - the door flinched open, and a tall woman stepped through.  
  
Long dark hair, bound into a ponytail, and slim, those were the first things Jacob noticed about their new guardian. Not exactly part of the modern beauty-standard, but very, very fit, moving smoothly, with a trained step, as if she knew exactly what she was doing, where she was moving. "Hey Charlotte", she gave the woman a small smile, before turning to them, where the smile disappeared.  
  
"Those are the kids?"  
  
Frowning, Charlotte answered: "Yep. All yours after you've signed these forms."  
  
Ms Hebert took a seat.  
  
Jacob's heart plummeted.


End file.
